


A Sinful Voyage

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Genre: 20s, Alternate Universe, Cousins, Creative Liberties, Family, Letters, Murder Mystery, Non-binary character, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Original Male Characters - Freeform, Original non-binary characters - Freeform, Seven Deadly Sins, Ship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:34:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27141833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: 7 cousins, personifications of the 7 deadly sins, set out on a voyage across the Atlantic in the 1920s. On a ship similar to the Titanic, mystery and murder abound, while each character deals with their own issues, and overcoming or being overcome by their fatal flaw. A story written completely through letters back to their Grandfather, this is sure to be a wild ride.
Kudos: 2





	1. Wanda

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I'm super proud of this, and excited to see where it goes. I hope you enjoy! :)

Dearest Grandfather, 

Today, we set sail! The harbor was full of all kinds of people and cargo. It was as if the entire world had been squished down into one place. It was flooded with people of all races and beliefs, people who looked as though they lived on the streets and hadn't bathed in years, people so rich they must have had their own palaces. 

I arrived with Evie, at half-past nine, and we met Pierre and Lucielle at a bar, where we all got drinks and waited for the ship to arrive. I wore my best clothes, a fine red dress with lace gloves, my hair pinned up in curls. Evie wore something similar, but, green, as always. Pierre was in a three-piece suit, a dull orange, and had a bowler hat on, which looked brand new. 

Soon the rest of our cousins arrived, Gretel first, at ten, wearing a fancy yellow dress, that looked styled to hide the curves that Evie so envied. Then Gregory at ten forty-five, in Purple suit that accented his protruding gut, and Sloan only showed up around noon, in trousers and an old jacket hastily thrown over their favorite blue blouse. Sloan has not once managed to be on time for any sort of gathering, no matter the importance. Remember that time they were four hours late for their own birthday celebration? Hopefully, our time in America will change that, though I have no clue how. 

We must have been an odd sight to behold at that bar. Pierre, with his fake French accent, ghostly skin, straw hair, and fine suits. Gretel, curvy and dark-skinned, clad in layers of a single shade of yellow, with her frizzy brown hair flying away from her head. Lucielle, tall and tan with styled blonde hair and a dress revealing just a bit too much. Evie, with her copper skin, jeweled headscarf, and almond eyes. Gregory, a fat, older, man, wearing suits obviously meant to be as fine as Pierre’s but lacking the refinement. Sloan, always apart from the group, with their half-long, half-short hair, tucked into an oversized suit jacket so that only a sliver of their pale skin could be seen. And me, as well, I suppose. A short, generally temperamental(though I try hard not to be) woman, with short, jagged hair and minimal jewelry. How strange we probably looked to the other patrons, all together and familial, yet so very different. 

The gathering at the bar went as expected. Pierre was too prideful to even order his own drinks, having Lucielle do it for him. She flirted shamelessly with any man or woman to pass the table, though never talked to one for long. Evie, of course, was jealous of how much attention our cousin earned, and proceeded to  _ also _ flirt with anyone who entered the bar. Gretal and Gregory managed to start up a poker game, and somehow the former lost all her money then won it back three-fold. Gregory barely paid attention to the game and instead gorged himself on the various food offered in the establishment. I remained with Sloan, who lazily sipped from their mug, and watched it all unfold. I had no interest in partaking in our cousins’ many shenanigans, for the bartender had been quite rude to me when he gave us our drinks, and I felt the need to cool down. I practiced the things you taught me, Grandfather, slow breathing, and counting my heartbeat. It worked well enough. 

We left the bar around one and marveled at the beauty that was the ship. The _RSS Vices_ , it was called the “Ship of Wonders” The biggest of our time, it was said to hold over 2,500 passengers. It was supposedly unsinkable. But we all know how the Titanic turned out. The ship was a gleaming mass of steel, perched almost magically in the harbor, glowing golden in the sun. Pierre, of course, made a comment about how “This is nothing like the Titanic, I saw it myself, you know”-as if he hadn't told us hundreds of times before-but the rest of us were simply stunned. How could something so large, so magnificent, carry thousands of passengers and still float?

We boarded the ship with the other first-class passengers and were shown to our rooms. I write to you from there now, and soon we will be getting ready for dinner and then drinks. I’m sure it will be much fun, so I will leave you here, and write to you again soon. 

Lots of love,

Wanda


	2. Pierre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now, a look into Pride, or as you know him, Pierre.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Stay tuned for more, it should come soon! :)

Grandfather, 

Today is the day we set sail. The ship left the harbor just over two hours ago. Wanda has insisted we all write these letters back to you, so here I am. 

I write to you from my suite room. It is not quite my home in France, with its luscious design, marble balconies, and gilded wallpaper. However, it is still very nice. I have a king bed, with a large wardrobe, and the drapes were all chosen by me beforehand. There is a separate room for relaxation, and we have had several paintings taken aboard for decoration. There is an outdoor dining area as well, and the sun filters through the overhanging covering quite nicely. The servants are good enough, but nowhere near as well trained as mine were, back in France. 

I have just returned from dinner with all of my cousins, which was certainly an affair. The dining room was beautiful, with creme wallpaper with golden inlay, fine silk tablecloth, and brand new silverware, the carpet a plush velvet. Everything was brand new, on a ship that had never before sailed. It was scarily similar to how many remember the Titanic. I saw the ship, only a week or so before it sank. Let us all pray that this trip goes differently. 

We were seated near the center of the room. I am certain we gained odd looks for our obvious differences but camaraderie, but we were the most important people in the room, so they dared not approach us. I was in between Lucielle(naturally) and Wanda(unfortunately). It's not that I don’t like Wanda, we’re family, after all, but we argue constantly. Every little thing I said seemed to push her buttons, despite my extensive knowledge vastly outmatching her own, which meant she could in no way beat me in a debate. 

During dinner, we went over our plans for America. I intend to go into the car business, and perhaps get to know Henry Ford, as we discussed. Wanda said she wants to start her own boutique, rather than working as a clerk as she did back in London. Lucielle mentioned something about a long-term relationship, though I doubt that plan will last long. To be honest, I did not pay attention to what the rest of my cousins were saying. It wasn't very interesting, so I instead discussed the reliability of the newest cars with Lucy. 

The meal was well made, though I would never have chosen it myself. We had a nice soup for appetizers, the salad was decent, and everyone enjoyed the squid served as the main dish. For dessert, there was something I had never tried before, flavored gelatin. It was  _ wobbly _ but quite good. Afterward, Gregory and I retired with the other men for cigars and brandy, and Sloan decided to join us. The women went off to who knows where, probably discussing fashion or gossiping about the other passengers. 

When we entered the room I felt a thrill go through me. I  hadn't been in a proper smoking room with proper men for far too long. In fact, I had never gotten to go to one with my cousins, who I-despite our differences-enjoy spending time with. 

The room was almost homey looking. Wooden panels, a painting of the ocean hung above the mantel, and a cart with glasses and bottles of brandy set up in the center of the room made up the room. There were cushy chairs and couches set about, and many little side tables with boxes of cigars. 

Our entrance seemed to gather quite a few eyes, unsurprisingly. I draw gazes everywhere I go, with my fine clothing and powerful aura. However, today the eyes were not focused on myself or Gregory, but on our young family member. Sloan, barely past their twentieth year, stood out like a rusty knife in the queen’s cutlery. Everyone else in the room was, first of all, over the age of thirty, but most importantly, a man. Despite the fact that there are more genders than men and women, there never seem to be options for anyone else. Sloan often chooses to come with either their male or female cousins on our various outings and rarely do people cause a fuss. However, sometimes people who still believe the things that their grandparents were taught still exist, and so we are practiced in the art of defending our quiet cousin, who never seems to stand up for themself. 

Gregory and I subtly stood in front of Sloan, but nobody objected to our or their presence. I now believe that while Sloan’s presence was surprising, nobody was actually opposed. That seems to be the way it is often. People stare at the things that they do not understand. Sometimes they object to them, calling them wrong, simply because they are afraid or confused.

I poured myself a brandy, then found a seat beside a nobleman I knew from my years traveling. While Gregory got himself a full three-fingers of some obscure brand and a cigar, Sloan opted to settle themself in the corner of the room. Sloan did everything slowly. Walking, talking, sitting down. They are always the last to arrive, and always the last to finish, whether it be a task, a test when we were young, even eating dinner. 

I stayed with the nobleman, Gregory discussed whatever bankers talk about with another, and Sloan watched it all, seemingly unaware of the remaining eyes trained on him. 

Soon, the evening came to an end. As ten o’clock came around, Sloan, Gregory, and I retired to our separate suites. And now, it is time for me to rest. I will write to you again, another day. 

Sincerely,

Pierre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed, leave a comment/kudos if so. :)


	3. Evie

Dear Grandfather,

It is the second day aboard the _ RSS Vices.  _ So far the voyage has been enjoyable if lacking the prestige of housing I’m used to. I did notice that the Rossi family got the finest rooms on this ship, which is unacceptable considering we are the most important passengers. 

Last night was wonderful, however. Dinner was actually quite delicious, and I had a lovely conversation with Gretal. She intends to find a husband or wife, as I do. We both know Terrance was just not the right person for me, and Gretal and I wish to both find someone better. 

As you know, Gretal was a Duchess in Germany. She intends to expand her wealth somewhere called Connecticut and seems rather sure of her plan. 

After dinner, all of us women went off to do what we do best: talk. Sloan chose to go with the men that night, so it was Lucielle, Gretal, Wanda, and myself. We retired with the other women to a parlor that provided wine, dessert, and cigarettes. 

I found myself talking with a beautiful woman named Anne who calls from Switzerland. She looked around the age of forty and said she too was looking for love in America. We discussed many things, especially clothing. She found my ghoonghat positively beautiful. It was the emerald one, with jewels inlaid, as you know. 

We discussed the recently dropping economy of America, the business of Pierre whom she seemed to have an interest in, and more about our plans for the future. 

Suddenly, right in the middle of our gossiping, we heard a shrill scream echoing from the hall. Everyone rushed out to inspect the cause of this, and found a truly horrible sight!

A man, one of the captains top staff, was  _ dead _ ! His throat slit, blood gushing quite terribly down his front. It was truly horrendous! The woman who found him was a maid coming to refresh our supply of brandy, and she seemed to be in a fit. Everyone was, of course, very shocked! The staff who had heard the sound immediately shuffled all of us guests back into the room from which we came, and I have absolutely no clue what happened after that. The staff wouldn’t tell us  _ anything _ , Grandfather! I fear for my safety now, and they won’t tell us a word! 

And that’s not even the worst part either. Just now, right before I sat to write you a letter, someone slipped a piece of paper beneath my door! I shall tell you what it says, for I am completely baffled by it: 

_ “Evie Peccaret, _

_ The bloodshed aboard this vessel was no accident. It was murder. A member of your own family is the perpetrator, and the others suspect you. This murder was not their first, and it will not be their last. Find the killer, or you will be next”  _

Do you have any clue what this could mean? One of my cousins did it? They think I did? That simply isn’t possible. Perhaps you can give me some clarity on this, Grandfather. 

Love,

Evie

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave kudos if you enjoyed, and I would really appreciate comments with theories, or really any thoughts! :)  
> 


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